


Crash Your Fiancé's Wedding 101

by kokofas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adult World - Everybody is an adult, Aerospace Engineer Shiro, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bar Owner Keith, Eventual Smut, Fake Marriage, Fashion Designer Lance, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Multi, Polyamory, Slow Burn, The POV shifts between the three mains!, shklance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:16:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kokofas/pseuds/kokofas
Summary: To Lance, it had initially felt like the most brilliant idea he'd ever come up with. Shiro, his long-time boyfriend, marrying his best friend? That sounded like a year-round hangout session with his favorite people. Except he forgot about the part where it meant he could never hope to be Shiro's husband anymore.And he totally forgot about the possibility of Shiro falling for Keith, or worse yet: falling for Keith himself.At least he could get good cake and sake out of it.





	1. Chapter 1

There were few things in life that could turn a day sour before it even began for Shiro, but at the very top of that short list was certainly the ringtone he’d dedicated for his mother. The loud blare of a fire alarm burst through the warm embrace of his dreams to jar him awake, and he groaned as he reached for his phone, only to accidentally push it off the bedside table and onto the ground. Wishing he could just fall into a coma to rightfully ignore the noise, Shiro begrudgingly moved to grab it off the ground as his partner stirred beside him.

Huffing, Shiro picked up. “Mom, it’s 7 in the morning.”

“On the first day of the new year! Takashi, you’re 29, soon enough you’ll be too old to woo anybody into marrying you, women and men alike.” His mother’s Japanese rang with the high-pitched, ever-present anxiety that it always had, making Shiro wince and shut his eyes. “Besides, don’t you have work?”

“I have the afternoon shift at the bar.” Shiro sighed heavily, shifting his other arm against his side uncomfortably. He didn’t have his prosthetic on, letting the severed limb rest from its heavy, metallic weight while he slept, but he never liked to be awake without it on. He wished he had the motivation to put it on while he conversed with his mom, but she often drained all the energy he could find within him.

“Takashi.” She whined, “You’re ignoring me. All our friends have married off their children, and I still have to call home and say, ‘No sorry, Takashi is too busy to make me and his father happy’. You’re too busy to make me and your father happy.”

“That’s not true, mom. I just think your criteria is a bit too limiting.”

“How is it limiting?! You have an entire half continent of origins to choose from! There’s China, Korea, Thailand-“

“Mom, it doesn’t work like that anymore. I can’t arrange for who I want to love and marry.” He huffed. He glanced down to his left, where the bronze-skinned beauty still slept soundly through his morning conversation. He watched his boyfriend’s body rise and fall with the steady flow of his breathing, before returning to the conversation at hand.

“Then I can arrange it for you! Didn’t you like that girl I set you up with the last time?” He could hear the steady chopping of vegetables on the other side of the phone, his mother preparing the late-night omelet with veggies his father practically worshipped. His parents’ routine never changed, not even by a millisecond, a complete opposite of his routine with Lance. No matter how much Shiro tried to teach Lance the organization his parents had ingrained in him, he still managed to be alarmed and stressed out by completely foreseeable events on a daily basis.

“I’m gay, mom. And she had an American boyfriend anyway. I’m telling you, times have changed.”

“Well, we’re not about to let that kill our traditions. It’s enough what the Americans have done to our countries throughout history. They’re not your friends, Shiro!” His father’s voice boomed, a little far from the speaker, Shiro rolling his eyes at hearing this speech a thousand times.

“I’m not excusing their actions, but I think it’s time to move on.” He sighed in defeat. He knew he wouldn’t get through to them.

“Well, I don’t care. I, for one, want to see you with a polite, handsome, Asian boy, Takashi. It’s hard to set up arrangements for…you know, people like you, but I’ll look around. You’re getting married by the summer, or your name isn’t Takashi Shirogane.” His mother’s tone was final, and despite attempts at persuading her to let go of that plan, she still stubbornly stood her ground, finally hanging up to go have breakfast with his father a whole hour later.

“Parentals?” Lance groaned from beside him as he rolled onto his back, squinting up at him groggily. Shiro smiled warmly as he studied his boyfriend’s post-sleep look, complete with bedhead hair and puffy eyes, and felt lucky that he was the only one ever allowed to see Lance in a state this unkept.

“They’re still set on me marrying an Asian man.” He sighed, leaning over to rest his head onto Lance’s torso, the latter’s slender fingers toying with his hair thoughtfully.

“I already told you what I think you should do.” Shiro felt Lance shift in what he knew was a shrug, and turned his face to look at Lance’s.

“It’s not realistic.”

“It totally is! In fact, I think it’s brilliant. Especially since you don’t plan on fighting your parents over being with me any time soon.”

“You know I love you.” Shiro sighed, unprepared for Lance’s hand slapping his face playfully as he snorted.

“I know you do, and I’m not mad. Actually, I kinda respect their point of view, even if I find it problematic. And I want to help them be happy, baby. You’re the only one complicating this.” Lance raised a carefully trimmed eyebrow at him and he pouted, making Lance roll his eyes and shove him off. “I need to poop. Make the call or I’ll do it myself!”

Shiro watched his boyfriend roll out of bed with a skip in his step, his bare-naked bubble butt jiggling at the movement. His eyes followed him all the way up to the bathroom, before turning to look at his phone in dismay.

He did not want to do this.

* * *

  
Lance had ended up making the call, and the two found themselves sitting at the bar Shiro worked at, their friend Keith standing behind it. He was leaning on one arm, listening intently as Lance explained the entire situation, then turned to look at Shiro.

“Was this his idea?” He asked Shiro, who nodded. “Why would you even want this?” He turned his gaze back to Lance, raising a curious eyebrow.

“I know me and Shiro can’t realistically get married without causing family problems for him, and I’d rather have him marry somebody I like than some stranger. You’re like, my best friend, it’ll be cool having you marry my boyfriend!” Lance exclaimed, taking a sip of the cocktail in front of him that Shiro knew had way more alcohol than the man should have been consuming at noon.

“Okay, I’m not getting this. Why don’t you just tell your parents you’re with Lance? They’ll feel a little sorry for themselves, then get over it.” Keith shrugged, as if Shiro hadn’t done the risk-benefit analysis for that option a thousand times already.

“Keith, they’re super traditional. This matters to them. You know how Asian parents can be.” Shiro groaned. “I don’t like this either, but Lance is right; it’s the best option we’ve got at this point.”

“Guys, you know I don’t hate you and we’re friends and all, but I like being single. It’s precisely why I’m not married, nor do I plan on it. Sorry, but I got nothing to gain from this. Find another Asian American.” Keith pushed himself off the bar, making his way to refill a regular’s drink.

“What about tax benefits?” Lance responded, Keith whipping his head around to look at him. “You’re a business owner, Keith, and you already said this bar is barely breaking even with all the expenses and the new hipster bars popping up. This will help.”

“Shit…” Keith mumbled, nodding his head slowly as he walked back towards them with a bottle of cheap vodka still in his hands. “You’re right. Damn, Lance, when did you get this smart?” He grinned, reaching over to ruffle Lance’s carefully styled hair and laughing at the other man’s gasp of horror.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. They’ve been hounding Shiro for the past two years.” Lance grinned up at Keith once he had fixed his hair again, looking proud of his quick recovery.

Keith whistled. “That’s a long time, no wonder your mom’s getting crabby.” He pulled out three clean shot glasses from below, uncapping the bottle in his hand and pouring clear liquid into them. “I’m in.”

“Yeah?” Shiro asked as Keith pushed their shot glasses towards them, both him and Lance grabbing them as Keith raised his up in the air.

“To Asian heritage. Cheers!” Keith smirked, the three of them clinking their glasses and downing their shots. Shiro’s eyes watered at the burning taste as he drew Lance into his side, bursting into laughter as his eyes met Keith’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm testing the waters with this one, being my first shklance attempt (I love those 3 with my entire life). Please let me know what you think!
> 
> Honestly?? I love stirring drama.
> 
> P.S. I didn't write Shiro's Japanese in Japanese because I would 100% butcher it. Keep in mind, though, that his parents reside in Japan and speak to him in Japanese.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hungover mornings and not-so-pure thoughts in a certain Keith Kogane's mind.
> 
> Also, Lance always gets what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a dummy who posted Chapter 2 with its first half missing lmao. Here's trial 2.
> 
> UMMM THIS IS TRIAL 3 I'M A FAILURE I KEEP POSTING THE WRONG VERSION!1!! So sorry.

“Hold on, hold on. You really call Shiro tic-tac?” Keith asked incredulously, desperately trying to withhold his laughter by taking another sip of the beer in his hand. The three of them were seated on the carpeted floor of Shiro’s and Lance’s apartment, the six-pack and cheap white wine Keith had brought with him from the bar’s stash sitting half empty between them. Lance kicked Keith playfully, pouting as he settled back against Shiro’s chest.

“Hey! It makes sense. He’s Takashi, so he’s tic-tac Takashi!” He exclaimed, turning his head up to look at Shiro, who quickly smiled back at him. If Shiro was honest, he had always found that nickname embarrassing, but had learnt to simply embrace it as another thing Lance just liked.

“I’d rather drown on this beer than ever call him tic-tac in my life.” Keith snorted, this time actually allowing himself to laugh.

“Well, how else are you gonna sell that you’ve been together for a while?” Lance frowned.

“I don’t know, know things about him? Like, where’s your birthmark, Shiro?” Keith asked.

“My left hip.” He pulled his waistband down to show the man, before pulling it back up. “You?”

“Don’t have one.” Keith shrugged. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Orange.” Lance’s voice said confidently as Shiro automatically answered with “Purple”. Keith stared wide-eyed at the two, his body shaking with tipsy giggles as they rounded onto each other.

“You don’t know my favorite color is purple?” Shiro asked.

“I thought it was orange! You said it was orange.” Lance gaped.

“No, I said orange was my favorite fruit.” Shiro corrected.

“I’m a bad boyfriend.” Lance pouted, whining as Keith nodded in agreement with an amused grin on his face.

“That’s not true. Favorite colors are useless anyway.” Shiro attempted to comfort him, his hand rubbing up and down the man’s arm.

“I’ve been buying you orange themed everything for the past year!” Lance cried, Shiro smiling sheepishly.

“I thought you were just feeling excited about Halloween…” He grinned as he heard Keith break out into laughter once again. His eyes flickered over to the man only to find him sprawled out and gasping on the carpet.

“That’s kinda cute.” Lance responded after a moment’s consideration, pecking Shiro’s lips quickly before settling back in his spot between his arms. “Stop laughing, Keith.”

“I just don’t understand you guys at all.” His laughter was dying down into intermittent giggles, turning his head sideways to look at them from his spot on the carpet. “Don’t couples do Q&A’s to get facts straight?”

“No?” Shiro responded.

“Have you ever done Q&A’s with your any of your boyfriends?” Lance asked.

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend, you know that.” Keith snorted, glancing away to stare at the ceiling as his laughter slowly died down.

“What about that biker dude you saw for a while? The scary one.”

“They’re all scary.” Keith rolled his eyes. “And that was Ralph, he was really more like a regular hook up.”

“Aww, are you saying Shiro is gonna be your first boyfriend?” Lance clasped his hands together, cooing as he crawled towards Keith to pull him into a hug.

“Fake boyfriend.” Keith flicked Lance on the forehead, but let himself be pulled into a hug. Shiro smiled softly as Keith pushed Lance off a moment later, though more gently than Shiro would have expected him to shove anybody else. It was amazing watching him around Lance the last two years alone, especially while keeping in mind all the stories Lance had told him of the quiet and temperamental Keith from high school.

Keith was still temperamental. It especially showed at the bar where he had to deal with all drunks and the fights that broke out. The fear Keith could put into people’s hearts was a good thing, Shiro thought, because it was really the only way they could maintain the peace in their rundown bar.

“Still, that’s so romantic you guys.” Keith swatted Lance’s hand away from his cheek before he could squeeze it, Lance turning to grin at Shiro.

“Well, don’t get too excited. This’ll hopefully all be over and done with within the week.” Shiro sighed.

“What?” Lance exclaimed. “What do you mean? What about Keith meeting the family? And planning for the wedding?”

“He’s meeting them this weekend, and we’re just going to go down to City Hall for the wedding.” Shiro shrugged, the two men staring at him unblinking.

“You’re not actually serious.” Lance replied in an even tone Shiro had come to know contained danger within it.

“I’m meeting your family this weekend?” Keith asked, a look of fear in his eyes.

“I am serious. And yes, Keith, we want to be done with this as soon as possible. My parents are flying over this Friday. They’ll be staying at my aunt’s place, we’ll drive down there, get everyone to believe we’re in love, and come back here just in time to get married Monday.”

“But- No!” Lance cried, jumping to his feet. “You’re not marrying my beautiful best friend in City Hall in the middle of the week like some cheap foreign prostitute, Shiro.”

“Oh my god-“ Keith’s face had a pink quality to it as Shiro glanced at him before returning his gaze to Lance’s seething form.

“Babe-“

“Shiro. You and I know both know your parents would hate that. You’re having a real wedding or so help me god, you’re sleeping on the couch.” Lance’s voice dipped, a clipped tone to it that Shiro knew with certainty meant that he was currently on very thin ice.

“Lance, it’s not a big deal. I don’t want to deal with a big wedding either, Shiro’s right.” Keith shrugged, looking up at Lance from where he sat on the floor.

“Liar, I know you want a wedding.” Lance narrowed his eyes at Keith, who frowned and turned to look unsurely at Shiro. “You’re having a big wedding, because if I was marrying you, Shiro, I’d ask for a big wedding. So, you’re doing it.” He cocked his hip, an eyebrow raised in a challenge.

“Fine.” Shiro sighed eventually, letting his head fall back against the couch cushion. Two years into their relationship, and he still was a sucker for giving Lance all his wishes.

Feeling Lance crawl back into his lap, he let his head turn towards Keith. Their eyes met for a second, during which something insecure and sacred seemed to flash across the younger man’s eyes, then he was turning away from Shiro’s gaze.

* * *

 “Fuck.” Keith groaned, abruptly waking from a dream he’d already forgotten. Sensing his current misplacement, he quickly blinked his eyes open, frowning as they adjusted to the morning light seeping in through unfamiliar curtains. His mouth was as dry as cotton from the previous night of drinking, and he hoped his breath didn’t stink too much along with it. He didn’t feel any headache, which was good, because the last thing he wanted was to deal with a hangover with Lance as a breakfast buddy.

He rose from where he’d fallen asleep on the couple's couch, noting the blanket that had been carefully thrown over his form, and his shoeless feet. Throwing the blanket off and to the side, he stalked over to the guest bathroom and emptied his bladder before attempting to freshen up by washing his face and wetting his hair quickly.

“Hey,” Lance greeted as Keith emerged from the bathroom. Lance’s usual morning mask was still on his face as the man was collecting the empty bottles thrown around the living area, a bathrobe hugging his slim form. Keith blinked a couple of times, his heart warming as he was launched back to the first time he’d slept over at the man’s place, when Lance had forced him to put that mask on with him, Lance lip-syncing and dancing to _Crazy in Love_ while Keith sat on the bathroom counter-top, laughing and nodding along with the song.

“Sorry we all passed out before cleaning up.” Keith approached, bending down to help Lance pick up the beer bottles he had no more hands to grab. He followed the other man to the kitchen, dumping the bottles into the trash there.

“It’s fine, we had fun! Do you want breakfast? Shiro won’t be up for a while probably, but I can make a grilled cheese.”

“Do you make it like your mom used to make it for us?” Keith asked, his voice more excited than he’d intended it to sound. Mrs. McClain made a mean grilled cheese.

“Do you think she’d let me call myself her son if I didn’t?” Lance responded, laughing as an enthusiastic grin broke out on Keith’s lips.

A comfortable silence passed between them, Keith seated on the kitchen island while Lance hummed to himself, preparing breakfast.

“Hey Lance,” Keith started later, watching Lance’s back as the man stood facing the stove. “How do you feel about all of this? Are you really good with it?”

“Yeah! It sounds so fun, honestly,” Lance turned to grin at him, “Like, so long as Shiro does what I say and all. If he tries to give you a City Hall wedding, kick him in the shin or something.”

“You’re so affectionate, babe.” Shiro’s voice was husky, heavy with sleep as the man stalked into the kitchen, scratching the center of his bare chest. Keith could feel his face heat up as he took in the man’s muscles. He _definitely_ didn’t like his bestfriend’s boyfriend, but the day he’d hired Shiro at the bar, he’d thought the man was 100% bangable. Usually, some boundary between them could keep those primal thoughts at bay, like a busy bar, or clothes. But in that moment, Keith’s dehydrated brain was definitely unprepared to see the man shirtless. Shiro was built like a truck, and watching the way he reached for Lance’s slim waist with one hand, the other trailing its thumb down his jaw almost religiously as he pulled him into a kiss? It felt like Keith’s brain was being fried alongside that grilled cheese that sizzled behind the two.

“Didn’t think you’d be up this early, you never are.” Lance commented as he separated from the man, flipping the toast onto the other side in the buttered-up pan as Shiro took an _actual_ seat opposite from Keith, completely oblivious to the remaining redness on the man’s cheeks.

“I smelled your grilled cheese.” He grinned, reaching for the plate Lance placed on the table before yelping as Lance slapped his hand.

“That’s Keith’s. You wait your turn, especially after leaving all those bottles all over the place last night.”

“He abuses me.” Shiro grumbled to Keith as Lance chuckled and turned back to the stove.

“He abuses everyone, get with it.” Keith rolled his eyes. He took a bite into the grilled cheese and felt tears prick his eyes. He glared at the other two as they laughed at his attempts to quickly chew the too-hot food item, but kept his snarky remarks to himself. He had a grilled cheese to eat.

* * *

 “So, Keith,” Shiro started after taking a sip of his coffee, startling Keith out of his trance and forcing him to lift his gaze from his own steaming cup. “Can you hand the bar over to somebody else during the weekend? We’re not gonna be in the city.”

“What do you mean? It’s my bar. I’m not giving it over to anyone, remember the last time I tried to do that?” Keith scowled.

“I don’t know. Sendak didn’t do so bad.” Lance remarked, shrugging as he scrolled through Instagram, rolling his eyes and scrolling past every post he thought was too tacky. Both Keith and Shiro made fun of him at times for being such an Instagram queen, but the last time Keith checked Lance also had a good 40k followers, so really, he must have been doing something right.

“Sendak turned it into a weird alt-right fest. I walked in there after a week of being gone and thought I walked right into a fever dream.” Keith turned to look at Shiro, who nodded along grimly.

“That really was a weird phase.” Shiro agreed, humming thoughtfully. “Maybe Lance could handle it?” Lance gasped, his eyes sparkling as untapped ideas began popping up in his head. Oh no.

“No.” Keith stated. “ _Hell_ no.” He emphasized, shaking his head as Lance kept enthusiastically nodding his head at him. “No, no, no. I don’t trust you one bit! No. No!” He tried to contain his laughter as Lance got up from his place, sinking down onto his knees with his hands put together in prayer.

“Come on, Keith. It’s my dream!” Lance begged, trying for the cutest smile he could muster.

“Since when? You hate my bar.” Keith frowned. From the moment Keith had taken over the bar Lance had unfailingly criticized it. He thought Keith liked it looking like a dump, and he was right.

“Exactly! This is my chance to finally force you to transform it.” Lance gasped, a depraved looking grin growing on his face. “I can even get your employees to make people fruity cocktails now.”

“No way. Lance, I will murder you. My bar doesn’t serve fruity cocktails!” Keith complained, turning to Shiro for help. “Shiro! Control your man.”

“He’s your best friend.” Shiro mumbled, sipping his coffee as he observed. Lance was doing his work for him. Keith was going to kill him later.

“Accept it, Keith. Your bar is going to be fruity, gay paradise this weekend.” Lance smirked, rising to his feet to come around and behind Keith, hooking his arms around his shoulders. “Thanks for trusting me, best friend!”

“I literally hate you.” Keith groaned, forcing himself to look mad as Lance leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “And now I gotta go. I’m already an hour late opening up the bar. Talk later?” He looked towards Shiro as he stood up, pocketing his phone and grabbing his jacket from the hook he’d left it at last night. The older man nodded and gave him a sarcastic, two-finger salute. Keith reached to ruffle Lance’s hair affectionately and stooped low to give him a forehead kiss -a childhood tradition- then stepped out through the front door, the aftertaste of Shiro’s coffee and the image of the couple’s embrace still fresh in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in a million years, but I decided to try and see if this has anything to go on. Keith and Lance are quite close, and Lance has an effect on Keith that others don't really have. Bear with the currently slightly OOC Keith, he's only really OOC with Lance? For reasons that will be explored more deeply later.
> 
> Anyway, Let me know what you think, I'm a little rusty with this AU. And happy holidays if you celebrate!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As stresses rise, so do tensions. A sleep-deprived Lance has a lot on his mind and a lot more weighing down his heart.

Lance craned his neck this way and that, wincing as it popped violently and sighing as some tension eased from his aching shoulders. His morning had been rough, like all his previous mornings that week, with rude awakenings to the incoming calls Shiro’s family now made a daily occurrence. The calls had been putting him in a bad mood, which had finally culminated into a fight that lasted throughout the morning up until Shiro left for his morning classes. Despite the stress already piled on him as a pre-doctoral engineering student, Shiro had still tried to mend things by attempting to give Lance a little apology kiss before leaving, which Lance had dodged like the petty drama queen he always was. A twinge of guilt made Lance’s next breath feel like he was trying to lift a hundred pounds, and he threw down his sketch pencil with frustration. He rubbed his face tiredly and tried to push the morning out of his mind and refocus on work, but endless ideas for designs swam under his eyelids, none of which piqued his interest. He had a whole line concept to show to Honerva by tomorrow morning, and if he didn’t get done with it, well, he’d be done for.

As a newly independent fashion designer, Lance had to fight day in and day out to earn his place in the industry. Where folks with other careers walked into a calm work environment to tackle normal, everyday tasks, his tasks were always life-or-death-- at least in his eyes. There was no sympathy for those that lagged behind in his field, itt was eat or be eaten. This was especially true for those like him, who didn’t come from already big names and already big families, who had clawed their way onto the runway. The ones like him were the ones everybody would rather see trip and fall.

“Lance?” His associate’s voice reached him, and he looked up. His associate, Allura, was a supermodel, a beauty queen in every sense of the word, and she was the one who helped him get as far as he had. A supermodel should have had no interest in a little nobody scurrying from one task to the other in a NYC Donatella Versace studio, but Allura wasn’t the type to judge based on position. Unlike him, Allura had come from a family of old money and had led all her life in the Upper East Side, but like him, she had a great eye, and had immediately made it clear as he threaded the ends of her dress. Lance quickly learnt that Allura was a sun in an otherwise gloomy business when she returned that day after hours, shutting off his sewing machine and telling him to start off his own line.

Of course, he’d thought she was absolutely insane and told her so. Who crossed Donatella Versace and lived to tell the tale? _If you stay in your little intern position, there won’t be any tales to tell either._ She’d said to him. And he never looked back since.

“You’re looking dreadful. Did you forget to do your skincare routine this morning?” She asked as she approached, two cups of coffee in hand.

He gasped, frowning at her in real shock. “You think I’d ever skip my skincare routine? You know I’ve never skipped it once since I was 18. I was once in the emergency room for a broken leg and I still convinced Keith to bring me my kit.” He bragged as she rolled her eyes, then took the cup of coffee from her hand and sipped. She, like Shiro, believed in supporting local businesses rather than big industries like Starbucks, so she always got them the most random coffee from the smallest of shops. “What- Allura, where did you get this from?”

He watched her sip her own and cringe. “I don’t know. It didn’t even really have a name. I thought that was an artistic choice, but I am now questioning whether that was because it wasn’t really a coffee shop?” She gave him a sheepish smile and took another sip, seating herself on the edge of his desk.

“You’re a world-renowned supermodel. You should care a little more about what you put into your body, you know.” He lectured with a shake of his head as he put his cup to the side, trying to place it on the forgettability scale, a scale he and Keith had come up with together when they first arrived at NYC as two Texans with absolutely no knowledge of what was what on the East Coast. The scale went from ‘So unforgettable one struggles to remember what to even forget’ to ‘So hauntingly addictive one remembers it before they remember their own name upon waking up’. The latter rating Lance had never given to anything, but Keith insisted the Chinese place next to his bar was the only place in the city that deserved it. Lance brought himself back from inner musings of forgettability to pay attention to Allura’s next words.

“Why would I, when I have you to do that for me?” She grinned deviously. “Anyway, show me what you got so far for Honerva. She’s been blowing up my phone with texts. So neurotic, that one.” Allura sighed, clicking on her lockscreen to show him the many texts their parent company’s CEO and biggest stakeholder had sent her. Lance nearly shrieked and let his head drop on the desk in defeat.

“I got nothing, Allura!” He whined, looking up at her with puppy eyes he knew would fail. Allura, like her father, was strict when she needed to be, and he immediately straightened up as she began lecturing him on the work ethic. He heard the door to his studio swing open and he began to breathe a sigh of relief at the interruption he knew was coming, stopping short as he saw none other than Keith walk up to the scene with amusement brimming in his eyes.

“Well, well. I thought I’d have to do all the scolding today. Should have trusted that A would handle all of it for me.” He smirked as he wrapped his arms against his chest. His smirk quickly melted into a deer-in-the-headlights expression as Allura launched herself at him, embracing him tightly.

“Keith!” Allura cried happily, separating herself to look upon Lance’s extremely disheveled best friend. Lance always found it funny seeing Keith in his studio, like a juxtaposition brought down from the universe specifically for Lance to laugh at. “You gorgeous man, what are you doing here in this dump?”

“Excuse me, dump?” Lance interjected, raising an unamused eyebrow at her as Keith laughed.

“Well, Shiro and I didn’t know you were back from your trip to Hong Kong. We thought it would be good for someone to swing by and make sure this workaholic didn’t starve himself to death.” He produced a paper bag from his torn-up backpack, handing it to Lance who accepted it gratefully. “I didn’t know you were here, so I didn’t bring any for your Allura. I’m sorry.” He said, and it was genuine because Keith never apologized for pleasantries. A lifetime in boys’ homes and foster care made him a blunt man. If he hated you, he hated you. If he liked you, he liked you. And if he was sorry, he was sorry.

“Oh, I’ll just steal the fries.” Allura shrugged, leaning over to take the box Lance easily offered up, forgetting all about his mission to clean up Allura’s diet as his stomach rumbled.

“Shiro sent you? No way.” Lance laughed as he bit into Keith’s signature burger and hummed in delight. Shiro was caring and thoughtful, but not when he was busy (out of distractedness, rather than real carelessness). Shiro, like Lance, tended to forget himself in whatever he was working on. Both of them had, on more than one occasion, looked up from their individual projects at an ungodly hour only to realize they’d both forgotten about all the meals of the day.

Keith snorted. “Okay, I lied. He walked into the bar looking like a zombie from classes. Apparently one of his professors tore him a new one for one of his projects?” Keith shrugged. “Anyway. I cooked up those burgers and fries, gave him his portion and put him in charge so I can come check up on your dumb ass.” Lance smiled at the insult at the tail-end of Keith’s sentence. The man was incapable of hearing himself say something totally caring and selfless, so he always added an insult he thought would annoy Lance. He didn’t realize that Lance was literally incapable of being annoyed with him on account of him easily being the person Lance loved most in the world, as well as him being the kindest, most thoughtful person Lance knew. Lance never said that to the man in front of him, though. He liked staying alive.

“I also came to ask about your plans for the bar. Is there anything specific you need me to order?”

“Oh, shit.” Lance’s eyes widened as he slapped himself. “Don’t kill me for my next words, _but_ -“

“You totally forgot.” Keith groaned, sinking into the chair opposite from Lance’s desk, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“What’s this now?” Allura asked, looking between the two as she ran her finger on the now-empty, soggy cardboard then licking the salt off of it.

“I’m supposed to run Keith’s bar this weekend.” Lance’s eyes landed on Keith’s face, noting the stress that always hovered over his best friend’s face intensify by tenfold. “Shit. Keith. I’m sorry. I’ve been so stressed out about the line I’m working on.” Lance sighed, closing his eyes to rub them tiredly. He hated letting Keith down—Keith never let him down.

“Well, it isn’t utterly hopeless, is it?” Allura asked, causing Lance to look up at her curiously. “I mean, this line is due tomorrow no matter what, and then you’ll still have another day to get everything in order for the bar before the weekend. It’s definitely a tight schedule, but I’d say you still have your plans in order. Plus, I can help out. I’ve got nothing better to do right now, and Brooklyn can be rather charming.” She shrugged easily, and Lance felt the youthful confidence she radiated seep into his late-twenties soul. She was right, he could pull this off. Two projects due right after each other? It was exactly like fashion school. Except this time, he cared far more about pleasing Keith than he ever did his dumb instructors at school.

“Yeah! You also don’t have to do anything to the bar, either.” Keith leaned forward, seemingly affected by her positivity as well. “I mean, I’d _prefer_ that you run it how I always do?” He asked pleadingly.

“Uh, but that would be _failure_ , Kogane. You think Lance McClain is going to run your dingy bar and leave out all the wonder?” He smirked. “This weekend, I’m reimagining every little bit of your tiny Brooklyn bar. It will be…” He paused for dramatic effect before picking up his room temperature coffee cup, raising it high. “ _inspired_.” He took a sip and cringed, causing the other two to laugh.

The conversation moved easily from there, with Keith trying the coffee and rating it a tragic ‘Bewilderingly Forgettable’ as Allura protested that its disgusting aftertaste warranted some admiration. Lance watched as Keith and Allura chatted, Allura showing the black-haired man all her looks from Hong Kong as Keith tried to come up with a word other than ‘nice’ to respond with. A smile had crept up on Lance’s lips and made itself home as he watched Keith’s social clunkiness mesh with Allura’s forwardness. He was reminded of his own early life attempts at making Keith his friend. He knew deep down Keith saw no reason why others would want to be his friend, was completely blind to the adoration that others felt towards him. It was what made Lance try even harder all those years ago, and what made him try still everyday now with showers of hugs that Keith only half-heartedly protested to.

Eventually, Keith got up from his seat to go back to the bar, and Allura offered to give him a ride since her chauffer was still downstairs. Accepting a hug from Allura and an adoring cheek kiss from Keith, Lance looked back down at his work, this time determined. Warmth flooded his body from good food, good conversation, and good friends, and he launched back into work.

It was crunch time.

* * *

“Babe?” Shiro’s voice blended into the folds of Lance’s dream, and he sighed happily as he coasted on the shimmering delight of a cocktail party in the ballroom of Buckingham Palace. He frowned as Shiro’s insistent voice kept breaking up his conversation with the queen, before an arm on his shoulder jolted him awake. It was pitch black at first, then the lamp was clicked on and the room was flooded with light that hurt his tired eyes. “You’re alive.” Shiro joked, smiling softly as he brushed away the hair that had stuck to his forehead. He peered into Shiro’s eyes, feeling sleep try to creep in at the warmth they offered, but his boyfriend shook him again, chuckling at his behavior. “Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s head home.”

“No, I’ve got so much work-“

“So bring it with you. It’s one in the morning, and you belong in my bed.” Shiro’s lips kissed his tenderly, and Lance gathered up his sketches in a daze. The cool night air of a still-lit New York City helped knock the sleep out of him a little, and he huffed as he drew even closer to Shiro’s chest.

“Keith told me your professor gave you a hard time today.” He started, looking up at the older man blearily. The aftertaste of their morning fight itched at the corners of Lance’s mind, and he remembered a little too late that he was supposed to be angry and not talking to Shiro.

Shiro grimaced as his eyes darted from one thing to the next as they took in details of a street they’d walked together a million times. “Yeah. I think they’re harder on me ‘cause of my arm. Which is fair, I guess.” He sighed heavily and Lance felt anger bubble up inside him at the way his lover’s eyes allowed a tinge of sadness wash over them, the way Shiro’s shoulders drooped a little. He pulled away and stopped in his tracks, grabbing Shiro’s hand.

“Shiro. Look at me.” Lance demanded, his cold hands quickly cupping the taller man’s face. “It’s not fair of them to do that. They’re discriminating against you for your disability. You’re a brilliant engineer. Your models are incredible. And they’re idiots if they can’t see that you’re the future of aerospace engineering.” He leaned in to kiss Shiro, who smiled into the kiss. “You’re brilliant, Shirogane Takashi. Show them that.”

“I can think of someone who’s more brilliant.” Shiro’s lips quirked in amusement and Lance batted his lashes in fake shyness.

“Who, me? But of course.” Lance laughed as Shiro’s eyes widened in surprise at his arrogant response, squealing as he ran ahead of Shiro and barely escaped the man’s attempt to tickle him in the empty street. They stopped their chase at the streetlight right outside of their place and Lance huffed out a laugh as his back was pressed against the damp metal. Shiro’s lips kissed his as love warmed the icy tips of his fingers and tickled his freezing nose. He pulled away, looking up at the man he had grown to love, and frowned as he saw a dark look appearing on his face.  

“What’s wrong?” He asked, threading his fingers through Shiro’s soft coat.

“I’m scared, Lance.” Shiro sighed, resting his forehead on Lance’s. His next words were almost shaky. “I’m scared of marrying Keith. I mean, our fight this morning? It’s because of this whole wedding mess. I’m scared of letting my parents ruin the one thing I love in the world. I’m scared of marrying Keith and…ruining us.” Shiro’s lips pouted in that way they did when he was truly upset, and Lance’s heart lurched with hurt for his lover. Studying Shiro’s face, he realized the amount of emotional stress the man must have been going through with school, his parents, and Lance on his mind all the time.

“I’m sorry for lashing out this morning.” Lance began steadily, choosing to be mature rather than reactive. “And it’s not your fault that it happened.”

“Well, it was at least definitely my mom’s fault. I told her to stop calling that early.” Shiro sighed in defeat and Lance grinned.

“Parents never learn, Shiro. My mom still sends me ten bucks on my birthday like I’m 13, even though I told her I’m almost making six digits now.” Shiro laughed and Lance felt the tension in his chest release a little as he laughed along. “She’s just happy for you.”

“I want her to meet _you_. I want her to know the man I love.” Shiro sighed, breaking away from their embrace to look up in defeat at the sky. The stars weren’t there, dimmed by the numerous lights down on the grimy city streets.

“Shiro.” Lance began, pushing his hurt to the side because _no_ , he wasn’t hurt, because this was all his idea, and he was just tired. He paused as he reigned back his impulses. He wanted to say _If you were brave enough, you’d marry me anyway_. He wanted to say _You’re making both of us hurt more than we need to by making this a big deal_. Instead, he saved himself the fight and made his way up the steps leading to their brownstone. “I’m going to bed. You coming?”

* * *

Laying in bed, naked under white sheets and in his lover’s embrace, Lance felt Shiro’s chest rumble with words unsaid. Passing car lights flooded through their windows as the two blinked silently. Sleeplessly.

“I don’t want to lose you.” Shiro mumbled into the darkness after the passage of what seemed like hours, or perhaps incredibly long minutes, his lips brushing Lance’s forehead as Lance’s sleepy heart jerked with love for the man.

“You won’t.” Lance whispered back with the confidence and self-assuredness only the half-asleep can muster up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! I'm trying to commit to a regular schedule but will it really work lmao? 
> 
> I actually wrote a totally different version of this chapter a couple of weeks ago then scrapped and rewrote it. The story is still a little on the quiet and low-key side because I somehow ended up making it a slow-burn I guess? But that does serve a purpose. I try to to take into account the fact that they are all full-grown adults. Drama has a different way of creeping into life when you gotta pay rent, work on your career, etc etc.
> 
> On another note, I see the Lance I write as an incredibly emotional creature. He has a great deal of love for others and that can sometimes land him in a sea of hurt that may not be entirely apparent to him yet.
> 
> Also, if I could cast anyone as Allura, I would cast Jameelah Jamil. She's definitely the inspo for Allura in this fic.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and gear up for things to pick up pace from here.


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